


Smokers are Jokers

by Franzbibliothek



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franzbibliothek/pseuds/Franzbibliothek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prior to the events of Winter Soldier, most of Sam's knowledge about Captain America had come from school assemblies, where a sweaty guy in spandex would lecture them for an hour. Steve Rogers was something different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smokers are Jokers

**Author's Note:**

> A really short drabble I wrote off the cuff but liked enough to put it up, mostly for the Captain America as a drug euphemism idea.

Every year of public school Sam Wilson remembered being dragged into school assemblies, where on the stage some poor soul, who decided to major in theatre, was wearing tights, booty-shorts, and an ‘A’ on his forehead telling them not to “say no to drugs”. Sam never really saw the correlation between a clean-cut white dude who died in the 40s and substance abuse, but apparently the school did. Because he came back ever fucking year. By the time Sam reached high school most people referred to marijuana as Captain America. Asking someone if they wanted to go punch Hitler in the face quickly became a euphemism for sneaking out back and getting high. 

Now nearly a decade later Sam went out to his back porch to put out the trash and was greeted by the sight of Steve Rogers, cigarette in hand, blowing the smoke into the night sky. It was sort of like walking into an alternate dimension like characters in comics always seem to do. Steve glanced at the sound of the opened door and quickly stubbed it out in an old ashtray that had belonged to a previous owner. “Sorry, I’ve mostly kicked the habit.” He said.

“Nah, it’s fine as long as it’s out here. One of my nieces has asthma, so I try to keep the inside clear.” Sam said, dumping the trash into the bin, and not thinking about how pink Steve Roger’s lips looked wrapped around the end of a cigarette. Smokers are jokers, and not the least bit sexy, hadn’t that been Cap’s whole byline? A small bit of Sam felt a childish sense of betrayal. Captain America was a sweaty guy who was subtly trying to pull down his riding-up tights even as he brayed about the importance of voting, eating right, and not shooting people with guns. Instead here was Steve Rogers in jeans, and a t-shirt just a size too tight that it threatened to make Sam’s pants feel too tight; there was something deeply wrong about this.

“I guess I’ve just gotten used to smoking them when I’m feeling useless.” Natasha had left a few hours ago to scout something out. She’d told Steve in no mixed terms just how useful he would be to her. “My doctor prescribed these special cigarettes for when I had difficulty breathing.” 

“You had cigarettes for people with asthma? Man, the past was fucked up.”

Steve Rogers smiled, but it was the sort of smile that just seemed to emphasize how terribly sad he was inside. So like every smile Sam had seen so far on his face. As it turned out the tights and anti-drug agenda weren’t the most inaccurate part of what Captain America became. It was cheesy grin, that did nothing to constrict Sam Wilson’s heart like the real Steve Rogers’ does. 

“No, the really fucked up part.” Steve leaned towards Sam as if sharing a secret. “Was that they actually worked.” 

Steve turned his head and kissed Sam right on the mouth. The taste of smoke was bitter, but not entirely unpleasant. Sam wondered what else his school had lied about.


End file.
